Stop reading me like paper. I feel uncomfortable and weak when you pick me up like a book. Stop pointing out my ticks and minor twitches. They arent for your eyes.
Stop digging deeper than everyone else, I’ve hidden myself deeper than an unknown sea. I’m not any treasure. Not a pearl or red ruby. But rather a cold stone, leave me be. Let me thrive alone.

I feel trapped in my own skin. And even though there are a plentiful amount of rips at the surface I can’t seem to scratch through. It seems like I fell into a hole where there is one way in and out. My problem. Is that I can’t seem to climb out. Although I’m stuck in this hole I have many friends. Anxiety, depression, pain. Sometimes guilt chimes into the conversations I carry out with everyone else. Anxiety swallows my attention from time to time while depression sticks by my side like a leech on an animal. Never letting go, never moving on. Pain only listens and slithers an opinion when anxiety speaks up. While guilt seems to be alone most of the time; she speaks through depression who lives by my side when she feels the need to say something important. I can’t silence my friends anymore. Truth be told, I enjoy their company now. At first I believed they were liars. But after getting to know everyone better. I realize that there really isn’t a way out of the hole. And nobody will ever reach down far enough to pull me out. Because I am stuck. Because I no longer want to be pulled out.